The Thirteen Points
by Da Silver Hair Duchess
Summary: ...But wherever there is light, doubtless there is darkness lurking. As I have written in my recent report, I must decipher the mystery behind the darkness inhuman hearts to protect this paradise... Ansem Report 1.


**Silver-hair Angel**: Okay, so this is our first official story. Clap for us! (Holds a rifle to the readers)

**DaDuchess: **Yeah, so like… read it.

**Silver-hair Angel**: Or behold our fantabulous, ginormous, spectaculous, and powerfilled… power. Don't bother looking up these words, you'll never find them.

**DaDuchess**: (looks at Angel) yeah… What she said.

**Silver-hair Angel**: Anyway, this story is based on our version of how the organization formed. I repeat **our** **ver-sion**. Don't blow up our freaking emails with exploding Xemnas dolls, crying about how you think we're wrong. We love critiques, but save the bitching, okay?

**DaDuchess**: And please, save us the explanations on whom do you think is the best member. We care, but then we really don't.

**Silver-hair Angel**: Other than that, enjoy the story and leave your reviews. We read the hits, ya know, so if you bother clicking on the story, you might as well review!

**Warning**: This story is rated T for language and violence.

**Disclaimer**: We don't own Kingdom Hearts. If we did, Mickey Mouse would be exterminated. Or turned into Sora's slave. Either one.

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_The Thirteen Points_

_By Da Silver Hair Duchess_

_But wherever there is light, doubtless there is darkness lurking. I must decipher the mystery behind "the darkness in human hearts" to protect this paradise._

_-Ansem Report 1_

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The thoughts that swarmed his mind far transgressed the pen upon the paper. Indeed, every time he pressed the pen to the parchment, hoping the words would form from his cluttered mind, the pen would freeze. Such thoughts could not be easily translated after all. They weren't thoughts so much as theories, ideas… Ideas that plagued him to the point that it would drive him to the grave if he were not a man of tender age.

Free thus far he had been from gray hair. Hair the color of deepest saffron graced the top of his head and face. While the wrinkles were there, it was faint enough to fool one of his true age. Cheeks that were once full and rosy had lost some of its fullness. Still, the man was fairly young, and fairly wise as lovingly dubbed by his subjects.

Believe it or not, he was indeed a ruler. A ruler of a small, quaint land, but nonetheless a ruler all the same. Filled with joyous people and peaceful years, why would anyone be dissatisfied with Radiant Garden? For it was indeed a garden, and the people that resided amongst the beautiful flowers and rich green grass bloomed along with them, their minds flourishing like sunflowers in spring by the day. And as a result, their intelligence reflected their leader. For their leader was an intelligent man. One full of promises and unsatisfied wonderment.

And how he wondered. Day by day. Sunrise to sunset. Unspeakable things they were. Beyond the realms touched by psychologists. At first, it seemed normal enough.

Why did humans behave the way they did, why were humans content with their lives, why did they think and feel, **how** did they think or feel…

And who didn't question that?

… But who would question any further than that? Of hearts and fulfillment, of corruption and erosion of the heart.

Was this even possible?

Could it hurt to find out?

No, Ansem the Wise certainly did not see the harm in this whatsoever. It was for his benefit, for his people's benefit. By knowing these things, it would ensure that Radiant Garden maintained its peaceful reputation. There would be no one to corrupt Ansem's land. Everyone in their respective way would retain their individuality and be sparred the horrible fate of corruption. After all, Ansem was wise. He knew better than his people, he was doing it for them. Surely they would be grateful for his studies. Why wouldn't they?

And so on he studied. Penetrating the heart's secret machinations. Delving in deeper than anyone wished to know about such a simple organ as the heart. But Ansem refused to accept that the heart was not influenced by evil… that the heart in itself can become evil. So he penetrated even further, past physical restraints, past the emotional restraints, to the deepest chambers of the heart. Past mere speculation, past history's vaults. Yes, he was the first, and undoubtedly the last that would dive himself into such taboo. For no one thought of the heart as evil, or containing evil. The heart manifested love. Where was evil in that?

No, Ansem thought that the heart contained evil. And here was the rub, not just the hearts of those proven evil already, but in all hearts. In the hearts of the kindest elderly ladies, of the most innocent children, of the most God fearing, obedient man. In such harmless people, evil existed. Evil, undeveloped it may have been, was there. And once it was there, it rooted itself throughout the body. Of course, environmental factors influenced evil's progress. One would deem Ansem the Wise as a madman, a scientist of the most outrageous, inconceivable ideals his time had never seen. Yet the people still loved him. And he still studied.

Matters of the heart consumed him. It consumed him to the point where people who expressed an equal curiosity joined his ranks. He dubbed them most affectionately his apprentices. And his studies were fully appreciated by them completely, without judgement passed, without scorn. Ansem fully trusted them and regarded their loyalties as sacred. For Ansem was a man of simple morals. Trust and loyalty was all that he needed. Other things fell into place once those two things were established.

So he was not the only one pondering over a cup of coffee that had lost its heat, scribbling notes with a pen that scarcely had any ink left. Yes, he was not alone anymore. Someone shared his persistence, his thirst for research. Yes, his apprentices were indeed loyal, but their fascination with the heart would never surpass his own.

What he found was enough to satisfy the palette for a month or two. But he needed more. His curiosity was limitless! And tools of science were infinite. So he attempted to further his research even more. Yet it was to no avail. His research came to a dramatic halt. Speculation had stretched beyond its limit. Now experimentation had to take place. But how… where… by what means?

Ansem was troubled. The garden was looking less radiant. The smiles were few and in between. His people felt abandoned. And he could not deny that he had lowered them from their pedestal. All for the heart. His devotion lied solely within the heart. They had to understand. It was for them. For their protection.

But Ansem was a bit skeptical of actually testing a heart. Consequences were plenty, and the majority would certainly not be in his favor. But he was eager, desperately eager to continue. Without testing a heart, he had no choice but to cease.

And theorize. That would have to sustain him. And thus, here he sat. Endless notions bounced around his skull like deranged pinballs, making his head faintly ache for he could not release them from their confinement. It frustrated him thoroughly. In pensive thought did he remain for the longest time. Until…

"Master Ansem! Please! Your majesty, you must come quickly!"

For what reason was he being disturbed, with his apprentices being strictly aware of the fact that his thought process was very delicate at the hour and he preferred to be alone?

Rising from his chair with an authoritative air, Ansem regarded his disrupter with reproachful mocha colored eyes.

"Yes, what is it?"

It was one of his senior apprentices, Even. He had a youthful, promising face, yet his age betrayed him. Only on the earth for thirty years, Even was a remarkable scientist. Far from the mad variety, of course. On the contrary, Even was tame. There were periods when excitement would overwhelm him, which in these cases Ansem would seize control of him again. Ansem marveled at the intelligence he carried at such a ripe age. Even would soar far.

What was normally a handsome face was marred by absolute terror. Those beetle black orbs were impenetrable.

"A child… he was found at the foot of the castle… he is not conscious."

"How did he find his way to this castle? The citizens have never dared to approach the premises unless instructed!"

Even was panting heavily, and had a bit of trouble regulating his breathing. As he spoke, it was with utmost urgency, an urgency that Ansem regarded lightly.

"Please, Master, he may be in dire need of medical attention!"

Ansem could no longer ignore the need even if he would have wanted to. This was indeed serious. Ansem's eyebrows knitted together in a frown.

"Did you discover him alone?"

"Yes, Master!"

"I see…"

Ansem had always took care to surround himself with people who would not surely jest for whatever reason. He was not a man of jokes and preferred that those around him shared that perspective. There was nothing to make Ansem believe that the words Even spoke in such haste were deceiving.

Striding towards Even, Ansem wrapped his cloak tighter around himself.

"Show me!"

"Yes, Master! He lies in one of the empty chambers!"

Sprinting through narrow corridors and spiraling staircases, Even finally halted in front of a door that Ansem had long ago forgotten existed. His castle was a strange man's land as of late. There were two places he would venture to amidst the many rooms: his study and the lavatory. Any other place was a mystery to him now.

Without warning, Even barged into the room, the boy who Ansem was informed of spread across the simple bed, the room's only decoration. Ansem hesitated to approach the boy. Even wasn't quite as wary. In fact, Even hovered over a side of the bed, scrutinizing the child's condition only with his eyes. At an old man's pace, Ansem approached the bed.

As he noted with his very own eyes, the child could pass for a corpse had it not been for the periodic rising and falling of the chest. All color had left him. The snowy white hair that snaked around his shoulders had blended in with his ashen complexion. Grayish shadows nestled themselves under his tightly shut eyes. No clothing was on his body. Had Ansem touched the boy, he would surely freeze from the contact.

To see if he could glean any heat from the boy's body, he bravely extended his fingers to brush the boy's skin. His body was indistinguishable from an ice block. Ansem shuddered and shrunk away from the contact. And yet this boy was alive?

"He has not long to live," Ansem whispered darkly. Even analyzed Ansem's face. The creases in his face were sharper than they had ever been.

"What can we do?"

Ansem glanced down at the boy with mounting pity. Had Even not discover him, had no one found him, he would be a corpse. What life he had left was clutching on, perhaps in the hopes that someone would drag him back from death's cliff. The rest of him had already submitted defeat.

"We must care for him. If there is no improvement… there is no saving the boy from his fate."

Sheer luck, and sheer luck only could have rescued this boy. What Even had been doing on the castle grounds was surely fate. Something had wanted Even to be there, to be the boy's savior. In the end, they were all the pawns of life. Divine intervention moved them around to its liking, savoring the results it produced with no consideration towards the pawns in question. In this case, Ansem was extremely grateful that divine intervention had a positive response this time around.

"Even, why are you just standing here, can't you see the boy has no clothes?" Ansem said regally, feeling in complete control of the situation. Even scurried out of the room without another word, heeding his Master's commands. Once again, Ansem's eyes were drawn to the boy, the breathing corpse.

With intentions of checking the boy's heartbeat, Ansem stretched out his palm to his naked chest. Closer… closer… closer…

The frigid hand that wrapped around Ansem's wrist so tightly that it was likely to snap his hand startled the man, and would have sent him crashing to the ground if not for the grip. The breathing corpse had his eyes fully on Ansem, threatening, alarmed, a flurry of emotions staring out blankly from emotionless eyes. Ansem could see the child's soul hiding behind those eyes. Yet he revealed only enough so as not to leave himself vulnerable to sabotage.

"Y-You have awaken," stumbled the wise one over his words. The hand did not soften. The eyes did not waver. If he were not a child, Ansem would certainly fear for his life. To put it simply, the child was scared. He woke up in a strange man's bed. Why wouldn't his response be rash?

"You are safe, you need not worry about anyone hurting you," Ansem said in what he thought was a pacifying voice, a voice that eased so many frazzled souls in the past.

Ansem could faintly feel the familiar sensation of blood rushing through his veins again. Had he really put the boy's worries to ease, or was his grip diminishing because of haggard state? For whichever reason, Ansem was just relieved to have his wrist released.

Massaging it lightly, Ansem attempted a smile. It seemed to repulse the child.

"It is a wonder you are still alive. May I ask your name?"

He remained tightlipped and standoffish. Ansem had not gained the child's trust just yet. Even had stumbled in again, clothes cradled in his arms. Out of shock, Even nearly dropped the clothing.

"He… he has awaken?"

For the briefest of moments, the blank eyes traveled over Even and just as quickly snapped back to Ansem. Perhaps Ansem was too close to the boy. Maybe something was hindering him from speaking. While it had been a wonder that he even managed to open his eyes, Ansem was hardly expecting all of his facilities to be fully functional. Speech would probably not come to him for quite some time.

"Yes. Hold off on the clothes. I do not think that he trusts us much…"

Yes, Ansem would stake his life on that fact. Ansem didn't have high expectations that the boy would automatically accept them from the get go.

Still holding the clothes in a kind of stupor Even approached the bed, staring incredulously at the boy.

"I can't believe it. I didn't think that he would open his eyes until tomorrow!"

"Hmm…"

"Did he give a name?"

"No, he--"

"I have no name."

Raspy and barely audible came the boy's voice to their sharp ears. It seemed to take him an enormous effort to do even that. His pale chest heaved up and down in shorter intervals.

Even was further shocked. Dropping the clothes carelessly on the ground, he peered closely at the boy's face.

"Amazing! Simply **amazing**!"

"Even, enough," Ansem said to him sternly. While it was incredible that he managed to talk, he did not want to alarm the boy any further than he was. Ansem moved away from the edge of the bed and touched Even's arm.

"It's enough to know that he is fine. We'll leave him to rest."

Despite how reluctant Even was to move away from the boy, nevertheless he heeded Ansem's word. He dared not to obey Ansem for whatever reason. Besides, Ansem knew more than he did.

"Yes, Master," Even mumbled humbly. Even stalked out of the room, Ansem at his heels. As he glanced back, the boy had dived into involuntary rest. Sleep… that was what he needed. Ansem, in any case, was relieved that the boy was showing more progress than expected.

His name… he did not have a name… perhaps he was suffering from amnesia?

Of course, that must have been the case. Everyone had a name. It just left his mind for the moment. Ansem would help the boy regain his memories once he was feeling better than at the moment. Surely then, he would be able to give them a name. Yes, all in due time…

The desk was abandoned, along with the parchment that had hardly been written on. Only three words graced the top of the page: Ansem Report 0.

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End Prologue.


End file.
